Zachary is improved. Improved enough that we can say, now – our hearts in our mouths – he almost died. He almost died.

We can only say that, now, because there is every reason to remain hopeful that that ‘almost‘ will remain past tense. Expectantly hopeful. Positively hopeful.

But still: my heart is so tired.

I have been in hospital with Zachary – alongside my sister, who has been sleeping in a chair at his side for a week now – around the clock, cut off from the rest of the world. Soon it will be time to return. For the moment, my access to technology is limited. And that’s fine – my attention, my energies, my everything is needed here.

But still. I am so tired. I wish that I were not so tired, so that I could use my words, find solace in using my words, telling this story.

Soon.

Update: we’re still at hospital. Zachary has sustained such extensive nerve damage that they don’t know if he’ll be able to walk again. He’s trying so, so hard. It’s both heart-bursting and heart-breaking.Me, I’m living in the dark ages – there’s no wireless here and my smartphone isn’t working properly and so I only have computer access when I stand in line for the one dial-up system on the ward. I’m limited to text and sporadic access to some machine that was built in 1983. But know that I am – and Zachary is, and my sister is – receiving all your warm wishes and hopes and prayers.